His Merciless Marriage Bargain
“I don’t agree with you. Not at all.”
“I’m not surprised. We don’t agree on almost anything.” She turned away, walking with Michael to the curtained window. She’d pushed the heavy silk drapes open earlier so she could see out. The tall houses across the narrow canal were dark but streetlights illuminated the sidewalk and cast a reflecting glimmer on the water. Venice looked so mysterious at night, with its labyrinth of canals and bridges, arches and hidden squares. It would be fun to explore the city at night, maybe even take one of those touristy ghost tours. Not that she wanted to encounter any ghosts.
“Are you really in danger of losing your job?” he asked, breaking the silence.
Rachel drew a slow breath, and then nodded. “I’ve used up all my sick days and vacation days, floating days and every unpaid leave day I could take. But management wants me back, or they need to hire someone else.”
“Would you really miss work if they let you go?”
She glanced at him over her shoulder. “I love planes. I really like my job. It’s exciting to be in the same field as my father. Admittedly, I’m not an aeronautical engineer, but I have his same passion for flight…it’s exhilarating.”
“So you really don’t want me to support you. You don’t want to stay home.”
She hesitated. “Does that make me a bad woman?”
“Of course not.”
“Did your mother work?”
“No.” He laughed, a low mocking sound. “Her job was to look beautiful and spend money. She did both, quite well.”
“Have any of your girlfriends worked?”
He took his time answering, and when he did, he was brief. “I don’t really have girlfriends.”
“No? What do you have?”
“Mistresses.”
“How does a mistress differ from a girlfriend?”
“There is no emotional entanglement. It’s a physical relationship.” As if reading her confusion, he added bluntly. “I don’t love them. And they don’t love me.”
“What do they get out of the relationship then, besides sex?”
“Great sex. And gifts.”
Her brows arched. “That sounds horrible. Have there been many?”
His mouth curved, a crooked mocking smile. “I’m in my late thirties. So yes, there have been many.”
“What are they like? Do you have a type?”
He leaned against the wall, hands buried in the robe pockets. The robe was pulling open, revealing the hard, muscular plane of his chest and a hint of his carved, chiseled torso. “I make it a point not to discuss past relationships.”
She forced her attention from his incredibly fit body to his ruggedly handsome face. “I suspect it’s not because you’re protecting them, but because you don’t like remembering. For you, there is no point in remembering. What’s done is done. What’s gone is gone.”
Gio’s black brow lifted. “You presume to know me?”
She shrugged. “You’re an engineer. I work with engineers every day. You’re all excessively practical.”
“Next thing I know you’ll be saying we lack imagination.”
“Not so. You have excellent imaginations. If you didn’t, how would you problem-solve? You have to imagine something to be able to build it.”
“You fascinate me, bella.”
“I doubt that very much.”
* * *
His gaze met hers and held. He looked at her so intently that he made her grow warm all over again.
“I like smart women,” he said quietly. “I like successful women. I wouldn’t say I have a type but I am drawn to brunettes with interesting faces—mouths that are generous, noses that aren’t too short or small, jaws that aren’t weak.”
Heat rushed through her, even as her stomach turned inside out.
She didn’t know where to look, or what to do. Spellbound, she stared across the room at a man who was absolutely larger than life and beyond anything she could have imagined for her. There was no reason he should like her, or be fascinated by her.
When little spots appeared before her eyes she realized she needed to breathe, and she dragged in a breath, dizzy, and dazed.
He couldn’t possibly be serious, and yet he didn’t seem to be laughing at her, or mocking her. He wasn’t even smiling.
No, he looked very hard and very virile and far too self-assured. What she wouldn’t give to have that kind of confidence.
Heart hammering, she glanced down at the baby in her arms. Michael had finally fallen asleep, his plump cheek pressed to her breast, his thumb against his mouth. He was so sweet, so beautiful. She loved him so much.